


Fit Like a Glove

by MercuryMapleKey



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015)
Genre: Body snatching, Creepy, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 20:14:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5104304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryMapleKey/pseuds/MercuryMapleKey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To find the perfect frame you have to know the perfect frame, to know the perfect frame you have to watch the perfect frame. Closely. Intimately. Then the catch, the procedure, the release; oh, it's all so exciting!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ribbonelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribbonelle/gifts).



> This fic is brought to you by Alia's birthday! One of the best times of the year because it brought such a lovely person into the world for me (and then stuck them on the other side of the world)  
> This fic is brought to you two weeks late by exams! Thanks for making /me/ the bad friend. 
> 
> Three chapters, 4500 words. It's a complete story, it's just broken up into individual sections because I thought that worked with the mood and pacing of it all. Vertebreak is a huge fucking creep, there's some smut in the last chapter but it's not particularly graphic I tried to focus more on the mood. And given the predicament I don't really think I could do much else. Well. You'll see.

               He was perfect. Absolutely perfect. And to think he had been so lucky as to find him all the way out here in the recesses of organic space. (Lucky? No, luck was a fallacy but probability didn’t do justice to the sharp curves and smooth lines busy sassing back at current company). A true find among the rubble.

               No one was perfect out here, no one even came close. All around him just the awkward shapes and outdated frames of the Decepticon prisoners who had jumped ship at the start of the cycle. Ugly, imperfect, under-maintained… it was a felony in itself. Among them the Autobots had stood out like crystalline formations in the acid wastes; fresh, shiny, smooth, and recently updated with all the newest tech from Cybertron direct! They were a spot of beauty on a primitive organic planet, a pretty little guarantee for that long postponed vengeance that was now only decacycles away! And then…

               And then there was _him_.

               The little red sportscar ahead of the convoy and still arguing with the rest of his group if the faces he was making were any indication. (Not that Vertebreak was interested in his face, pretty as it was in shock or horror there was nothing he could actually _use_ there). He was the one; he was perfect.

               It was a lot of things. It was everything. The speed, the agility, the sleek lines that connected enviable chestplating to the smooth curves of a flexible waist. Oh, how many time had he drawn that waist? Mapped out every square inch, every subtle angle, from the internal anatomy to the cocky tilt of his hips as the Autobot challenged his friends to keep up with him. Beautiful. His speed was admirable as always, even among the heavy obstacles the thick canopy of forest provided (all the better to watch him through). Vertebreak could count on one servo (any of his servos) the number of times he’d crossed paths with a mech as enchanting as Sideswipe was. It kept him up at night. Up re-engineering his old lab components from the salvaged wreckage of the prison ship. Up testing the apparatus to ensure it was working at optimal. Up calculating the exact position of his newest friend’s t-cog in relation to the twin engine blocks he had to possess…

               But who could recharge with so much excitement in the air?

               He was beautiful, and predictable. Autobots had never gotten too creative in their frame design (and why should they? Why stray from something that worked _so well_ ), Sideswipe was merely a newer version of an old high-end model. Tried, tested, and true; most mechs like Sideswipe went on the black market for millions. And yet here the little red bot had walked right into his open arms. He was practically begging for it – an unwilling volunteer, but a volunteer nonetheless. And in near mint condition too!

               Sideswipe pulled ahead of the group to launch himself through the trees and Vertebreak could have been blind to the rest of the Autobots for all that he cared about them in the moment. They were all impressive in their own ways, but not a single one of them could move quite like _that_. It was enthralling; Sideswipe glided through the terrain like he’d been created to navigate through it. He hadn’t, of course, but in the very same ways he _had_. A frame like that was built to traverse it all, to reach the ends of the known universe and make it back again in half the time. It was… tantalizing. Tempting. Oh so tempting. He could hardly contain himself. To stay out of sight, to keep under the radar, to channel all that excitement into frenzied scribbles over meticulous notes. Watching was one thing, but the experience... (fresh circuitry under his control, under his design, the strength, the speed, the mobility), the experience was what made all the patience worthwhile.

               He could be patient. When he needed to.

               So many different frames had passed through Vertebreak’s claws (these ones, and the old model of them he used to wear), and true any one of the Autobots would be a prize unto themselves, but this one… Sideswipe, oh he was perfect. He was everything. Genius was never recognized in its time, but Sideswipe was still young, and those short-sighted _relics_ back in Crystal City wouldn’t know what hit them!

               Because they wouldn’t recognize him of course, but Vertebreak would be sure to send his regards.

               It was only a matter of time.

 

* * *

 

_“Fixit, how’s it coming with that reverse procedure?”_

               Bumblebee’s voice was no more tense than it ever was during the height of a mission, but Fixit jumped clear into the air as it filtered through his audios nonetheless. The secret room between the subway tunnels may have been large for a minicon like him, but the walls crept in dark and close regardless. He didn’t really enjoy being alone in here. And that was in no way to say he didn’t like accompanying the team on missions, but a creepy underground surgical lab wasn’t exactly his first choice for adventure.

               Not that it was anyone else’s either.

               “We—Well it’s coming, but I believe we might have more than one problem _…”_ Fixit shifted some of the papers he had nervously splayed out before him as the open neck of Vertebreak’s body stared at him from across the room. It was almost too morbid to not stare back.

               _“What problem?”_ Bee’s voice went half an octave lower with concern. The connection cut momentarily as a train screeched across the tracks on the other end of the line. _“Is there enough information to fix Sideswipe_?”

               The rig Vertebreak had set up for Sideswipe’s head wasn’t a long term thing. It would only keep him going for a week or so, at most. They needed this fix. Fixit only wished that they didn’t need to find it _here_.

               He put on a brave smile anyways. “Yes there’s enough. The problem is that there’s more than enough! The notes we found on the procedure aren’t the only ones Vertebreak has in his l-l-lab, there’s data on every single one of us here, the entire team! Anatomy, physiology, he even references your favourite TV show. B-but his notes on Sideswipe are the most reprehensive—expensive— _extensive!_ ” Fixit whacked himself on the chest and turned a leaflet over in one servo. ‘He’s perfect! ♥’ Read over the top of several messy doodles. “I can’t say how long he’s been watching us.”

               The silence that stretched out over the commline only served to heighten the ugly apprehension gnawing at the bottom of his tanks. Finally Bumblebee spoke again. _“Okay.”_ Another pause. Shorter this time. _“Okay. Just concentrate on that procedure for now Fixit; we’re counting on you.”_

               No small responsibility. They were counting on him. Fixit turned his back on the empty shell of Vertebreak’s frame and shuffled through his pile of notes again.

               He did his best to ignore the dozens of empty optics that floated silently around him from jars of their own.

 


	2. Chapter 2

               It would have been a hard thing not to fall in love with that familiar cherry red plating as it dashed through the undergrowth. Flashy, confident, the colour stood out no matter where Sideswipe was. In the forest, in the city, and certainly in that dusty old scrapyard the Autobots called their base. Vertebreak had fallen in love with the colour too, he’d even started taking all his notes in it, and couldn’t wait until the day he would be able to wear it for himself. (That paintjob, that engine, those _legs_ ). He could work a red like that, he was sure of it.

               Of course he wouldn’t have to wait much longer either.

               He was ready. Everything was ready. The lab had been up and running for quite some time now, and regulating and recalculating all the components he needed to perform the procedure with an alien apparatus hadn’t taken long with so many viable subjects scurrying around underground.

               Some might have said it was too dangerous to perform such an experiment while dependant on earth’s primitive technology for a power supply. Some might have. Some might even have said it was crazy, unethical, a modern medical horror story. Well there had always been the believers and then there had always been the ones who never dared to dream big. Naysayers. Imbeciles. Who closed their minds to the bigger picture and lived in fear of what they could become. Vertebreak had always been the former (unlike so many others) and he had spared many a fellow convict to ensure that his equipment would perform as it needed to – and it did. (It was working perfectly! Perfectly! He was a genius!)

               It was a beautiful procedure. One that he’d gained some beautiful specimens from too. Everything was ready, the table set, and the guest of honour right on time just as he should be.

               Sideswipe was pretty on patrol like he always was in the mornings; sometimes with his little human companion, but this time without. (It was for the better, Vertebreak had little understanding and even less interest in how the organics of this planet really functioned). Sideswipe was alone and unprepared, so accustomed to his route that he hardly bothered to watch the winding roads of the escarpment as he blasted some poppy radio frequency into the air. Ripe for the taking. Everything was going so well! Everything was going exactly as he’d planned, and the council… Well Vertebreak would be knocking down the doors to their hab-suites within the next lunar cycle.

               But really, he had to thank them first. If it hadn’t been for their lack of vision he _never_ would have found his perfect specimen – a real diamond in the rough.

               Said diamond was slowing his carefree pace to a leisurely stroll. He transformed and swapped his radio out for a set of headphones, smooth lines of his frame still bobbing to the beat even as he climbed up an outcropping of rock and out of sight of the road.

               Perfect.

               How lucky for him that some little Autobots liked to get themselves into trouble.

               Alone, unaware, and unable to react quickly enough; Vertebreak couldn’t contain the manic cackle that burst from his vocaliser this time. It didn’t matter, no one could hear it! Not this far away from base, and certainly not with the device Sideswipe had jamming his audio reception. (Why were the pretty ones always so stupid? More than luck; it was a blessing).

               Everything was ready. The tunnel to the subway system wasn’t far from here, wasn’t anywhere the Autobots could get to before he made away with his prize (and what a beautiful prize, what a perfect specimen). Another bought of laughter sent his frame curling in on itself in delight before Vertebreak slithered out from the roadside. It was time. Everything was set. And after he secured his diamond, that perfect, perfect frame, there would be no stopping him. Sideswipe didn’t even hear him coming.

 

* * *

 

               “Sideswipe!”

               Bumblebee didn’t get an answer, but a quick scan of the surrounding area revealed tracks where Sideswipe must have left the road… And a bright red pede handing off an outcrop in the mountainside. Well. That was one mystery down. At least he was never hard to find.

               With a sigh that could only be described as resigned, Bumblebee transformed and scaled the up the short Cliffside himself, tapping his errant teammate on the leg unceremoniously to catch his attention. “Sideswipe, for most of us patrol means actually _scanning_ the boundary.”

               Sideswipe sat up a bit when Bee roused him, nodding to his team leader and tapping two fingers to his audio before sliding his headphones down to his shoulders. “What was that?”

               And to think he couldn’t _hear_ properly either with an mp3 player jamming his audios. The look Bee shot him was a calculated level of skeptical that sent Sideswipe frowning immediately.

               “Tell me again why it’s a good idea to let you on patrol by yourself?” Aside from the fact that they had no extra mech to spare. Sideswipe had volunteered for the earlier patrol himself.

               “What? Come on! Bee!” Whining hardly ever got him anywhere but tried it anyways, quickly jumping up onto his pedes so they were both on equal standing.  “We haven’t gotten a Decepticon sighting in weeks! There’s nothing out there!”

               That wasn’t the point, but Bumblebee conceded to it with a wave of his servo. “Well, today’s your lucky day. Fixit just called us in. Regarding some sort of anomaly he’s detected in through the scanners.” No news wasn’t good news, it just meant the ‘Cons were getting smarter. “You would have known about that, if you’d actually answered your comm.”

               A sheepish grin wasn’t exactly enough to get him off the hook, but Sideswipe was smart enough not to try lying about it either. He shrugged. “Well what’d he find?”

               “I’ll tell you as we head back to base. Come on.” The longer they went between each Decepticon counter the more paranoid Bumblebee became. It was the stress, most likely, but he couldn’t help but worry about it. Silence was unsettling, it always had been, and more indicative of an enemy they couldn’t see then a job well done. Sideswipe, thankfully, was too young to understand that, but Bumblebee couldn’t escape the prickling notion that someone, somewhere was wise to their every move. Their numbers were small, and the planet was big… They couldn’t afford to let their guards down.

               After all, who knew who could have been watching them out here?


	3. Chapter 3

               “Ohh, my _head_.”

               When Sideswipe came to it was with a pounding pain pulsating up the back of his neck. It was enough to distort his vision, and sent the world underwater, tinted blue, and warped and stretched at the periphery. Resetting his optics didn’t dispel the glitch worth a scrap, but a manic burst of laughter from the side sure succeeded in freezing his lines cold.

               It wasn’t a glitch, and it wasn’t his optics. He was still in that freaky underground lab with that freakshow underhanded Decepticon, and his head… His head was _all_ he felt.

               “You’re awake! Good! You know my subjects don’t normally pass out during the operation. I wanted you to be the first one to _witness_ what you’ve helped to create!”

               Sideswipe swiveled his head around – all the way around, he was _floating_ – and came face to frame with… himself. Himself, but with that freak doctor’s ugly head in place of where his own should have been. This wasn’t happening. This actually wasn’t happening. Sideswipe gaped, but wish as he might the electric chill that ran down what was left of his spinal struts wasn’t exactly supportive of his expectations.

               “Impressive isn’t it?” Vertebreak’s grin was sharp, his optics were bright. Too bright. “I knew you’d be excited.” He watched him like he was expecting an answer; Sideswipe floundered, petrified as if he’d been locked in stasis.

               “No!” He found his voice just a moment too late and fought to catch up against the abject horror. He felt like he was going to purge, he didn’t even have anything _to_ purge. “Give me back my body!”

               His demand fell on deaf audios: Vertebreak’s only response was another burst of laughter, pitched and loud. The Decepticon held up his new servos, examining the way the fully articulated digits flexed and curled under his control and laughed again.

               This seriously wasn’t happening.

               But it was, and it didn’t look like it was going to stop happening unless someone found him quick.

               “Welcome to your new home! This is a homeostatic chamber, the operation was a complete success, but we’re not past the point of complications…” Vertebreak tapped on the container Sideswipe was being held in with a single digit and the sound reverberated through the glass harshly. He was talking to himself, or to Sideswipe, or to the room in general – it was hard to tell when the stupid snake’s main method of communication seemed to be a split between muttering to himself and cackling like a maniac. “I may still need to derive more STEM coding from your ventricular circuitry.” Either way, he kept explaining it, leaning down to fiddle with some buttons or _things_ on the front of Sideswipe’s head…. jar. There wasn’t anywhere to recoil in the fluid. “But your frame… your systems! They run so smoothly! Like they’ve hardly ever been used, like they were made for me!” A creepy thought, a creepier insinuation; Vertebreak ran one articulated servo down his thigh appreciatively and Sideswipe flinched backwards.

               “Don’t touch my body!” There was nowhere to go, but Sideswipe swerved his helm around anyways, searching his surroundings through the curved plexiglass for anything he could find, anything he could _use_. He had to get out of here, had to call Bumblebee, to do _something_.

                But what use could he possibly be in this state? As Vertebreak picked him up – in servos that weren’t his – and carried him across the room – on legs that weren’t either – Sideswipe had never felt so helpless.

               “Hard not to when I’m attached to it.” The scientist’s reply was calm even through the snark in his voice, and Sideswipe went from staring at his own chest to staring at the snake’s smug face as he was placed down again. He would have preferred to be looking at literally anything else. “But don’t worry,” Vertebreak assured him, and it sent pins pricking down his neck. “I’ll keep you safe up here where you’re nice and comfortable.”

               “Yeah? I’d be more comfortable if I never had to see your creepy mug again.” It wasn’t clever. And the heightened pitch of Sideswipe’s voice made a sure sign of his mounting panic, but he didn’t lose points for trying.

               “Be careful what you wish for.” Vertebreak wasn’t even listening, far too preoccupied with the joint flexibility in his contraband wrists and servos. He twisted them this way and that, and his optics lit up with each little discovery. Individual digits, fully rotational carpal joints, flexibility, it must have been exciting, or something. Sideswipe didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to think about anything.

               This couldn’t be happening. He’d lost his body, his _whole_ body – who loses their whole body! – and now it was being paraded around in front of him by this freak Decepticon who was going to do who-knows-what with it. He didn’t even wear it well! And he was going to mess up all of his internal settings, or—or scratch his paintjob, or they’d never be able to _fix_ this! It was hard to stop the tumult of panic once it had started. And the creep wouldn’t stop touching him! Vertebreak was feeling up _his_ waist like, like it was some kind of spare part at an autoshop or something, and honestly? It left Sideswipe feeling kind of dirty.

               And he was talking again too. Great.

               “You’re so _sensitive_ here.” Vertebreak ran a digit up himself and shivered, and at this point it was hard to tell if he was talking to Sideswipe himself, or his frame instead. “I mapped out your somatosensory circuitry but I never imagined it would be this finely tuned. Then again—“ Another pointed grin just as cringe-worthy as the others, “maybe you never were this sensitive. The peripheral unit isn’t always _predictable_ when it reconnects to the central network.”

               Okay, well now he definitely felt dirty.

               Sideswipe watched his own servos prod roughly under his own chestplating before they slid back down his waist again. Too slow to be cursory; the chill that ran through him wasn’t even _close_ to a phantom sensation.

               “Hey! Doctor Hackjob! Get your hands off the merchandise!”

               It was unnerving. It was more than unnerving.

               “Why? I’ve already bought and paid for it.” Sideswipe didn’t need to see the glint in Vertebreak’s optics to catch the intent in his words. He didn’t need to hear the faint rumbling from the subway tracks to know how far away his team was. This was bad, this was so bad, and getting worse at a steadily increasing rate—he needed to get out of here.

               When Vertebreak’s servos – his servos – finally made their way from his waist to his thighs, Sideswipe offlined his optics entirely. This seriously couldn’t be happening.

               “Don’t touch me there!” He didn’t need to see it happening to know what was happening, what was going to happen – oh Primus, how had he gotten into this mess? He… He…

               “Why not? Are you sensitive there too? I wouldn’t doubt it given the caliber of _your_ frame.” Vertebreak hummed as he smoothed a servo over his own thin thigh. “Hm. No more so than is typical for your frametype. What a pity.”

               “How would _you_ know?” He wanted to go home. He didn’t want to do this anymore.

               He didn’t have a choice.

               Laughter broke out once more across Vertebreak’s vocaliser as the Decepticon worked his digits into a seam in his plating. The lights in the lab flickered as another train passed by, but neither had the notion to pay any attention to them. “Do you think that you’re the first speedster frame I’ve ever had the pleasure of grafting to?” Apparently not. Vertebreak kept right on talking, no matter how much Sideswipe wished he would stop. “Oh you’re brilliant, certainly. Perfect even, your frame the ultimate balance of speed and agility, accuracy and _potential_ , and the dynamic streamlining of your outer armour—unmodded even! You were built with this! Oh, you’re a beautiful specimen alright Sideswipe, but you’re hardly my first.”

               He… he didn’t know what to do with that information. Didn’t know if shock was finally winning out over disgust, or revulsion, or what he possibly could have done to deserve to be trapped underground with this psychopath. The way his own name slipped out of Vertebreak’s vocaliser was enough to make him sick where he sat.

               They both felt that.

               And in that moment, Sideswipe decided he didn’t want to hear it again. Uselessly, he tried to push his own container off of the shelf he was trapped on, surging forward only to get knocked back entirely by the momentum. The entire container fell over backwards, and Sideswipe went with it, stuck staring at the ceiling. It was almost better, but Vertebreak wouldn’t even give him that and turned him upright again.

               “Ah, ah. If you fall from that height you might hurt yourself. I still need you.” He smoothed over a scuff on the outside of the glass and leaned back against his lab bench to regard Sideswipe with optics too bright to have any _sane_ level of circuit fire going on behind them.

               “For what? To watch your sick show?” He wasn’t going to watch those servos grope against his own frame again. He didn’t have to participate in this freakshow’s game. A last line of defense.  “Do me a favour and let me fall.”

               He meant it. He really did.

               But Vertebreak was more chilling than stubborn refusal could account for.

               “Show?” The question was met with genuine curiosity, an unaccounted expenditure. “Oh, no, it’s your friends who will get the _real_ show. A true test of your frame’s combat skills in the open field. And they’d better not hold anything back. I want to be ready.” Vertebreak smiled to himself, leaned back to lavish over the lines of his frame with an air of admiration. “But _this_ , this is just…” Another pause, another slide of his servos. “Appreciation.”

               The click of his panels opening was familiar in an almost jarringly surreal sort of way. It felt wrong, it sounded worse, and Sideswipe couldn’t have feigned detachment if he’d tried.

“Don’t!” The truth was it didn’t matter. Whether he reacted or not wouldn’t prevent what was happening. Vertebreak still had control of his body, he had control of everything, and Sideswipe... Sideswipe didn’t want to know what the creep was going to do with him.

               He didn’t _want_ to know… But he did all the same. Somehow that made it worse.

               Vertebreak was touching him. Running his servos between his legs, along his spike, fondling the lips of his valve between long fingers. Messy, exploratory, absolutely awful. Sideswipe couldn’t feel it, thank Primus, he could hardly feel anything. But he could still hear everything in the lurch and shudder of the Decepticon’s ventilations; the catches and hooks in his voice, the soft noises in an otherwise silent lab. It didn’t take long before clumsy prodding turned to smooth movements, calculated even, like it was just another sick science experiment. Sideswipe could have been sick himself.

               He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t _handle_ this.

               In went two digits into his own valve and horror bubbled out of Sideswipe’s vocaliser in a strangled noise. “S-Stop it! Stop. You—you’ve already got my body, so just… just…” Even his words were failing him now as something nauseating, like a cold flash of dread, shot through him and shut his vocaliser down hard. Sideswipe recoiled visibly when Vertebreak glanced up at him again and he could tell the deranged doctor just _loved_ it.

               “Now what kind of scientist would I be if I didn’t observe every part of my new frame?” He paused to mumble out a moan, servo pressed to the base of his spike too and Sideswipe flinched like he’d been hit. “You don’t need to worry anymore Sideswipe, it’s my body now and this test run is going – perfectly!”

               Perfectly, as Vertebreak slicked his brand new servos in and out of his brand new interface array.

               Perfectly, and Sideswipe was heaving sharp ventilations against the curved glass of his very own personal prison. Helpless to do anything, helpless to _say_ anything, and stuck in an awful purgatory between wrenching his optics open and shuttering them away. There wasn’t room in his jar-thing for the panic welling up inside it; it hadn’t been built for that. The murky fluid he was stuck in did nothing to dispel the fog of overheat from around his processor like it did nothing to cut off the energon supply to his helm and just let him into the oblivion of stasis lock already. Vaguely, he felt dizzy and drained. Intimately, he just wanted it to be over.

               But it wasn’t, and there was nothing he could do.

               The next few minutes were long ones. At one point Sideswipe’s vision faltered again, fading into blackness with the rest of him. At another excited observations switched back into laughter as Vertebreak finally reached his overload. Sideswipe felt it, almost. A sickening lurch in processing tanks he didn’t possess, and the acid aftertaste of an oncoming purge.

               By the time he had the strength to open his optics again Vertebreak was put away and watching him, with an enthusiasm that could never be called honest.

               “You know, if you were smart you would be thanking me.” He cocked a bright red hip to the side. “Your processor doesn’t have the threshold do handle what your frame is truly capable of. I’m _helping_ you to reach its potential. You should want this.”

               At this point he wasn’t sure it was possible to want anything but for the creep to leave him alone already so he could hate him in peace. Sideswipe was exhausted, and this wasn’t… He couldn’t let anyone know, he—

               “Go…” Just… “Go frag yourself.”

               This time, Vertebreak’s cackling was justified.

 

* * *

 

               He spent a long time staring at the empty shell of Vertebreak’s body before anyone found him. Alone and helpless in a veritable remake of a scene from one of Russel’s horror movies. Dark, creepy, claustrophobic…

               But the only thing that scared Sideswipe was the notion that Bumblebee might figure it out.

               No one ever needed to figure it out.


End file.
